


Guess What We've Been Doing Daddy!

by queerravenclaw



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 4x11 Spoilers, Abuse, Episode Related, Fix-It, M/M, Slurs, Violence, brief mention of rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1407295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queerravenclaw/pseuds/queerravenclaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A re-write of 4x11 where, instead of being pressured by Ian, Mickey comes out of his volition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guess What We've Been Doing Daddy!

Mickey wakes up. He rolls over, expecting to find Ian, but the bed behind him is empty. He stretches and opens his eyes. No Carl or Liam either. It must be late. Maybe he's finally getting used to all the noise this fucking family makes first thing in the morning. He can hear the murmur of conversation just down the hallway. Carl is firing questions at his older brother. What is it with that kid always asking fucking questions?  
"You love Mickey?" He hears Carl ask. There's a moment of silence before Ian responds.  
"I like how he smells."  
Mickey smirks as he gets out of bed but the smile is gone when he appears at the bedroom door.  
"What you asking stupid fucking questions for?" He shoots at Carl before he disappears into the bathroom.  
"You were nicer when you were asleep." Carl shoots back. Mickey hears him say something about Frank before he makes his way downstairs. Ian enters the bathroom behind him.  
"I gotta go to the church for the christening today."  
"Thought you didn't care?"  
"I don't."  
"Why you going then?"  
"It's my son man." Mickey rinses his hands, hoping that'll be the end of it. For a second he thinks Ian might just leave it.  
"Alright, I'll get dressed." Ian leaves the bathroom. He pulls his damp, sweaty top over his head and dumps it on the bedroom.  
"No, look it's fine." Mickey follows him into the hallway. "I'll head over there by myself. I'll be back in a couple of hours."  
Ian turns and shoves Mickey into the bathroom door. "What you don't want me to go?"  
Mickey responds in kind, slamming Ian against the wall opposite. "Probably best if you don't tough guy." He looks him up and down.  
"Yeah, for you maybe."  
"Why you bustin' my balls man?" Mickey releases Ian and heads into the bedroom. He starts rooting through the small pile of clothes he's brought to the Gallaghers. He's trying to decide which shirt looks cleanest when Ian, having followed him in from the hallway, grabs his hips and turns Mickey to face him.  
"Just wondering if we're a couple or not?"  
Mickey raises his eyebrows before pushing Ian down onto the bed. He straddles him, pinning his arms above his head.  
"Of course we are."  
"A couple that hides?"  
"Ey, it's working out so far so good."  
"Getting kinda sick of it."  
"Jesus Christ" Mickey sighs, getting off Ian and sitting down in the space next to him. "What do you want me to do, huh?"  
"You could come out. Maybe people will surprise you." Ian replies, knowing even as he says it that the idea is foolish.  
"Yeah, or maybe they'll fuckin' kill us. You do remember what happened last time?"  
"I remember." Ian finally consents to let the issue drop. "I just...I wish things were different." He knows none of this is Mickey's fault and he does remember what happened last time. Vividly. How could he forget? He can't help but be frustrated by the shitty situation though. He can't help daydreaming about living in a different world. A world filled with gay clubs and cocktails and parties in swanky apartments. A world where they wouldn't have to hide.  
"Me too man," Mickey says as he gets off the bed and pulls the least offensive shirt from the pile. "but what fuckin' choice do I have?" He sits back down next to Ian to pull his boots on before leaning over and kissing him. Slowly and lazily. Wishing he could stay here. Finally he breaks apart and heads towards the door, calling back over his shoulder.  
"I'm gonna go get this stupid shit over with, okay? I'll see ya in a few hours."

*****

As Mickey approaches the church he spots two of his brothers hanging a dismal, pathetic looking banner over the door.  
"Yo, Dad in there yet?" He calls to them as he crosses the street.  
"Uncle Rodney went to get him. He should be here any minute."  
"That thing looks like shit." Mickey tosses his cigarette behind him as he pulls the church door open.  
"Been used a lot." His catches his brothers reply just before the door closes behind him.  
He walks down the aisle towards Svetlana, who is stood with the priest or reverend or whatever the fuck, in front of a giant bowl of water. He throws his coat aside and jogs up the steps to meet them.  
"This hasn't even started yet?"  
"Your late." Svetlana looks at him with disdain. And she fucking wonders why I don't want to play happy fucking families with her, Mickey thinks to himself.  
"Alright, well I'm here now. Let's get this show on the road." The sooner this is over with the better.  
"No. We must wait until your father gets here." Jesus Christ, why does this bitch always making everything ten times harder than it needs to be.  
"He doesn't give a shit about the ceremony. Trust me." Mickey turns to the priest, imploring him to get the fuck on with it.  
"No-" But Svetlana is cut off before she can really get going by the church doors crashing open. Terry is walking down the aisle, surrounded by his usual band of sons and brothers. "See it's good we wait."  
"Great. Can we fucking get on with it now then?"  
Svetlana sighs before going to get the kid off her friend. Mickey can hear his father chatting away. Laughing with his brothers. He sighs and just thinks about this whole facade  
being over and done with. It can't take that long to dunk a kid in a bowl of water after all. 

*****

"Give me another one." Ian holds his empty glass out to Kev who sighs.  
"I shouldn't even be serving you Ian." He says but he re-fills Ian's glass just the same. "Don't you have anything better to do than sit here getting drunk in the middle of the day?"  
"Nope." Ian says, tossing some money onto the counter for the drink.  
A few moments later and the door to the alibi bursts open. Terry Milkovich, surrounded by his usual gang of brainless thugs, swaggers over to the bar.  
"What can I get you?" Kev asks as they approach the bar.  
"Get me a fuckin' drink." Terry guffaws. He sits down on one of the vacant bar stools. "We're celebrating. My freedom and the birth of my grandson."  
Ian sighs and gets up from his seat. The bar suddenly having lost its allure now the Milkovich clan were taking over. He pulls his coat as he walks over to the door. On is way out he  
passes Mickey. Ian gives him a brief and what he hopes is an encouraging smile before yanking the door open.  
The bitter winter air hits his face but before he can step outside Mickey's hand on his arm, pulling him back.  
"Don't go." Mickey drops his hand from Ian's arm as quickly as he placed it there.  
"You sure that's a good idea?" Ian sounds unconvinced.  
"It's a free fuckin' country. He can't control who drinks here." Mickey gestures towards his father.  
So Ian shrugs off his coat, returns to his seat at the bar and calls for Kev to get him another drink. Mickey reluctantly heads over to join. He shares a round with his father. A fake smile plastered over his face, never quite reaching his eyes. He joins in the laughter as his dad regales them with a tale of how he beat the shit out of some guy his first day back in the big house.

Gradually day turns into night, not that it makes much difference in the dingy light of the alibi, and everyone slowly gets drunker and louder. Terry is the loudest of all. His cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth as he tells anyone who will listen of yet another beating he supposedly handed out.  
"Then I fuckin' smashed his face into the wall. Blood all over the fuckin' place." He guffaws and the small crowd gathered around him echos his laughter.  
"That'll teach the queers for tryin' to rape a Milkovich." Mickey's uncle chimes in.

Ian and Mickey don't speak to each other during the party, both knowing it's wiser not to draw attention to themselves. Every so often, though, their eyes meet across the room. They both take comfort in the others presence. That is until a drunk Svetlana says, a little too loudly, to Mickey "You sure it's wise to have your boyfriend here? Your father might realize he didn't beat all the queer out of you." Mickey grabs the beer she's holding and slams it down on a table.  
"Y'know your life right here, right now is as good as it's ever gonna get. You gotta go get ploughed all day, yeah. But you come home to a roof over your head and food in your fuckin' belly. I wouldn't fuck this up if I were you."  
Still, Mickey stops looking over to Ian. Instead he just focuses on the thought that this fucking welcome home shindig won't last forever and soon he will be able to leave. He and Ian will go back to Gallagher's and they can forget about the rest of the world for a few hours. His thoughts are suddenly interrupted and his attention is drawn back over to the corner where Ian has been sitting quietly. Terry is pushing and shoving the young man, drunkenly spitting words at him "'cause it's fucking faggots like you w-".  
"Fuck you Terry." Ian cuts him off. He immediately thinks better of when he sees the look in Terry's eyes. Holding his arms up in surrender he heads over to door. "Okay, look, I'm fucking leaving." Everything in him wants to steal one last glance at Mickey but Ian knows he'd be a fucking fool to chance it. So he's taken by surprise when, as he's stepping outside, Mickey once again stops him.  
"Ey, hold on."  
Ian stands there in the doorway, completely dumbfounded, as he watches Mickey walk over to the bar where his father is sitting.  
Something in Mickey has snapped. He's fed up of being pulled in all these different directions. Of being pushed around by Svetlana. Of being controlled by his father. He's fed up of  
just surviving. It's not enough anymore. So he makes his decision, even if it means getting beaten within an inch of his life, he's going to fucking live. His face is within an inch of Terry's as he speaks quietly, but forcefully.  
"Ey, dad, I just want you to know I'm fuckin' gay. Big ol' 'mo." There is a tremble in Mickey's voice which gives away his fear but it doesn't show on his face. He is defiant. "Just thought you should know that." With that Mickey turns and walks away. He's not an idiot. He isn't going to wait around for the beating of his life. Not if he can get away before Terry processes what just happened.  
"Let's go." He says as he reaches Ian, who is still standing in the doorway. But Ian doesn't leave. Instead he pushes Mickey out the way and runs back into the bar. Straight into Terry.  
"I'll fucking kill you!" Terry's screaming and running toward Mickey. His eyes filled with rage and blind hatred. Mickey had thought his dad would have enough sense to refrain from actually killing him in front of a bar full of witnesses but, hearing his yells, he begins to doubt it.  
But Terry hadn't counted for Ian and he's taken off guard when Ian's fist flies into his face and draws blood. Ian may have gotten in the first hit but it doesn't take long for the larger man to pin him to the ground. Ian's feels Terry's fists flying into his face. Into his ribs. But then the weight is gone.  
It takes every ounce of strength Mickey has to, once again, pull his father off the man he loves. But he manages it. Mickey's never really been a match for his father though and soon he's being slammed into the bar. It's all he can do to kick out aimlessly, praying he'll land a hit. His arms flail out. Groping around for some kind of weapon. Finally his fingers find a bottle which he smashes over his father's head.  
It doesn't take long for almost everyone in the bar to get in on the action, though most have no clue what caused the fight to break out. Which was good news for Ian and Mickey. They could both more than hold their own in a fight, but there was no way they'd be able to take on the entire patronage of the alibi and live to tell the tale.  
When the cops finally arrive they find the alibi completely trashed. Chairs and tables are broken. Smashed glass litters the floor. And right at the center of it is Terry Milkovich beating the shit out of his son. Almost everyone else had rushed to the exit the minute they heard the sirens outside but Terry is completely focused on Mickey. And Mickey is focused on surviving. Both are taken by surprise when the cops pull them apart and haul them out into the cold night.

Mickey's chest hits the cop car hard. Warm blood drips down his face melting the snow beneath him and obscuring his vision. He hears Terry thud down on the car next to him a few seconds later. No longer able to use his fists to fight Terry screams at his son.  
"Fucking faggot! Get out out of my house you pole-smoking queer!"  
Queer. Faggot. The same fucking words Mickey's been hearing and using all his life. But tonight, in this moment, these words fill Mickey with rage. His anger pours out of him as he screams back at his fucking pathetic excuse for a father.  
"Fuck you! Don't worry about it. I've been staying at Ian's since you've been in the can, bitch. Guess what we've been doing daddy! We've been fucking! And I take  
it. He gives it to me good and hard! And I fucking like it! Fuck you! I suck his dick! I fucking love it! Fuck you! Fuck you!"  
He kicks out, trying to get in one last hit before his father is dragged away. Then Terry is gone. Mickey's anger begins to fade away. The cop whose been holding him down pulls him upright.  
"And as for you, you're free to go." Mickey feels the handcuffs come off. He turns to look at the cop in confusion.  
"What?"  
"If I arrest you it's gonna mean a lot of paperwork. It'll keep me in the office all night. I'd rather get home to my husband, Carlos." The cop give him a quick nod before getting in the car and driving away. Mickey is stunned. Exhaustion finally starts to catch up with him. He slumps down into the first bench he sees. Ian joins him a few moments  
later and drops Mickey's coat over his shoulders. Mickey doesn't have the energy to put the coat on properly but he's grateful for the extra warmth it supplies. Ian sits down opposite him. There's blood smeared across half his face. Blood staining his clothing underneath his coat. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a hip flask. He unscrews the cap and takes a sip.  
"I think I broke half a fuckin' tooth." Mickey's speech slightly slurred from the mouthful of blood.  
"Yeah, my ribs don't feel so good." Ian replies, passing the flask across to Mickey. "So you really came out huh?" Mickey takes a sip.  
"Don't expect me to start wearin' eyeliner. Goin' round in little gold fuckin' shorts or anything." He passes the flask back to Ian.  
"Nobody fucking asked you to. Though you do have really nice legs."  
Mickey smiles. His grin all wide and unguarded. "You're a fuckin' dick." Ian laughs before clutching his ribs in pain.  
"Yeah, there. That's what you get." Mickey says, laughing now as well. Then suddenly another wave of exhaustion hits him. His smile fades and his head drops down. Ian gets up and closes the distance between them. Putting his arm around Mickey, he plants a gentle kiss in the sweaty, blood-soaked mess of hair on top of his head. "C'mon," he says quietly into Mickey's ear "let's go home."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic and it's un-beta'd so apologies if it's not particularly great.  
> Basically I got really frustrated with the way Ian was pressuring Mickey in this episode, especially given the fact that everything which happened could have been achieved in a way that wasn't problematic as fuck. So I (attempted) to re-write it because fuck the canon.


End file.
